


The Last Leaf of Autumn

by lymerikk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, End of the World, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lymerikk/pseuds/lymerikk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been sixteen years since the end of the world. Yao is a survivor. The Dark hit and took everything from him. Ivan was after the Dark, and has no idea of the world before the end. There is little one person can do to grant a wish, yet he will try his very best to make it a reality. Ivan would do anything for Yao, and that's how it will always be. Even when the last leaf falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes, a new fic! i've never written post-apocalyptic before. i have this all planned out. should be good fun. also on fanfiction.net, but i'm putting it up here too, since i'm new to this site!!

He walked, slowly, patiently, down the street, long pike in one of his gloved hands. He was never really too fond of the gloves. They made his skin feel sweaty and uncomfortable. Yet, if he took them off, the sensitive skin on his fingertips would soon become numb and he would lose feeling in them. He spiked the pieces of assorted garbage that covered the city street until his pike was full, and then he slid them off into the thick bag he held in his other hand. Times like this he wished his tree was lighter; it would surely make bending over all the time a little easier on his back.

"Yao, slow down," puffed the young man beside him, a tall fellow in a black, once white, coat and ripped boots. Around his neck hung a dirty and tattered garment, vaguely recognizable as a scarf, if only by position on his body. Thin, scraggly locks of probably curly blond hair stuck out from behind his mask. Yao had trouble telling what colour people's hair was these days. It was hard to see through all the black grit and soot."You are walking fast again. I can't keep up! Are you inspired for work today?" This man was also sporting a rubbish pike and bag, although hadn't filled his bag as much as Yao had.

"Sorry," Yao mumbled. "Ivan, keep up. We have a lot of ground to cover today." He sighed and speared more trash almost aggressively with his tool. "If you want to eat, keep up with me."

"Why do you say that all the time?" asked Ivan quietly, soft, honeyed voice oddly curious all of a sudden. "You said it last time, too."

"What, for you to keep up with me?" scoffed Yao. "You are a slow worker."

"No, eat. What does that mean?" Ivan asked, kicking his feet a little as he walked down the cracked bitumen. "You say it all the time."

Yao grunted quietly, readjusting the straps of his tree case. Feeling it slip a little, he moved his hand beneath it, and pushed it back more into place. The tree case itself was something he'd had with him for a long time. He was one of the first to get one. The technology itself was a miniaturized tree, almost like the bonsai his family had once kept in the house, situated inside a half-sphere of thick, unbreakable glass. Burying the tree's restricted roots was a shallow layer of dirt, and if you were lucky, some grass even grew. No grass grew in Yao's tree case. Below the dirt was a thick layer of metal and from that extended a length of tubing that would allow none of the outer air to seep in. This tube connected then to the front of the gasmask, providing one's own personal air supply. Yao had his looped under one of his arms. Ivan put his tubing over his shoulder."Sorry. It's a thing from Before."

"Tell me what it is," Ivan said, frowning behind his thick mask. Yao would not have been able to see. Nor had he ever seen Ivan's face, for that matter. They had become friends due to circumstance, and become closer just through verbal contact. Sometimes, Ivan would put his gloved hand on Yao's arm, and sometimes, rarely, they would embrace. Ivan didn't quite understand the motion, but Yao said it was a thing of affection. Friends did that. "I like hearing about Before."

"I could imagine why," Yao murmured quietly, slowing down and walking more calmly beside Ivan. He only really walked fast when he was deep in thought. They continued spiking trash as they walked.

"Eating is.." Yao trailed off, unsure how to explain this to his After friend. "You know, with Sustenance Fluids? How they fill you with energy?" he tried, poking something that vaguely resembled a can and putting it in his bag. "It is like that, only you do not inject it into your bloodstream. You put it into your mouth, and move your jaws to make it smaller. You then swallow it." He remarked, trying to remember what food tasted like. "There are things on your tongue, that is the fleshy thing between your teeth, called tastebuds. Different sustenances make it feel different."

"That's fascinating!" Ivan gasped, clapping his hands together in delight and almost spilling the contents of his bag. Yao luckily was paying attention, and grabbed it before Ivan's work spilled everywhere.

"If you want any Sustenance, you'll need to keep a closer eye on your day's work," Yao frowned.

After their sixteenth hour of pacing through the city and her endless mountain of trash, Ivan and Yao returned to their employer. "I am hungry," said Ivan, still finding that word, hungry, to be odd. He felt low. That was the word that the government used. The mayor used that too. When you were low, you were supposed to replenish your energy and your life with an SF, or Sustenance Fluid. Ivan only ever said hungry because Yao had.

"I'm hungry too," said Yao, frowning as they reached the Right Place.

The Right Place was a collection of rickety shacks within an abandoned streetway. It was like what Yao's parents might have called a ghetto. To find the heart of the Right Place, they were to surf through the other people trying to bargain their every belonging for just a little more Sustenance. There was never enough to go around, and chances are, there never would be. Even with the Depopulation and Protection Program, DPP for short, in place, there would never be enough for life to be fine and fair and lived happily. It would be a struggle forever. Ivan's gloved fingers gripped tightly onto the back of Yao's coat, afraid of losing him in the Right Place. Soon, thankfully, they reached the heart.

The heart of the Right Place was its very center, its very pulse, its very life-force, if you will. There was one man in charge of keeping those in this ghetto neighborhood on the leash, and that was a charismatic man who was known as Francis the Giver. And give he did. He gave his all at keeping these people hopeful, he gave his time up constantly to perhaps sit with the ill and sickly and tell them they were needed in heaven. He was a man who made good use of his knowledge of Before.

"Francis!" hummed Ivan, merrily hopping past Yao and over to his friend. "Hello! We are finally finished all our hours for today!"

"Ah, boys," Francis cooed quietly. His voice was slightly husky, more than it should have been, yet his soft, low tones were still kind on their ears. "Good job. Here," he smiled, handing them each a few lidded syringes held in a group with old rubber bands. "Merci."

"What language is that again?" asked Yao, a faint smile behind his mask.

"French!" laughed Francis, giving a light-hearted shrug of his shoulders. Ivan just tilted his head a bit, thinking once again how odd his friends from Before were around one another.

"Thank you for cleaning up the streets again today," Francis nodded after their muffled laughter had died down. "I very much appreciate everything all of those in the Right Place are doing to help my wish be achieved," he sniffled softly.

"I want to see this city pure again," Yao nodded weakly. "It's our duty to help." With a tearful nod from Francis, Ivan and Yao turned and began to walk home.

"Why does he talk like that?" asked Ivan. He had a bad habit of assuming because Yao was older and from before the Dark that he knew everything under the harsh and unforgiving sun.

"Did you see his tree?" Yao asked, taking Ivan's SF syringes for safekeeping.

"Yes."

"It was dying." Yao said in a quiet and subdued voice. "Our trees are our life, Ivan. Without our tree, we are incapable of drawing breath that will not kill us."

"So Mister Giver is dying?" Ivan asked, turning to look at his friend.

"Yes. His kindness is just a cover for the blinding fear he must feel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary –
> 
> Before – Any place in time prior to the Dark.
> 
> The Dark – The time when a great amount of toxic smog, acid, and vile pollution were released into the environment. Released initially as a contained test of eliminating a single country, the situation quickly got out o f hand, and spread like wildfire, obliterating fauna and flora on a global scale. This event destroyed the world. Only a few civilizations remain across Northern America. Other continents are also affected, but it is unknown if there are any surviving humans on them. There were some precautions in place before the pollutions were released, including the SFs, and tree cases. These products are now being produced as quickly as possible, however, resources are very limited. The trees now within the tree cases are incredibly precious, as they are the last trees in existence.
> 
> After – Any place in time following the Dark.
> 
> Tree case – A miniature tree growing in a shallow layer of dirt within an unbreakable glass capsule. The bottom is made of thick metal. Airtight tubing connects the capsule to a mask strapped onto the wearer's face. The exchange of carbon dioxide from the wearer and oxygen from the tree create the wearer's personal air supply. The case is worn like a backpack, with straps crossing over the chest. The gasmask only covers the front of the head. Ears, hair, etc, are still visible and stick out from between the straps.
> 
> Elephant – Yao's term for the gasmasks, due to their trunk-like tubing.
> 
> SF/SFs – Sustenance Fluid/s. A re-energizing liquid within a syringe that has become currency. SFs replace the need for food or water, and are mostly nutritiously sound. They are becoming increasingly hard to come by.
> 
> DPP – Depopulation and Protection Program. The government's law states that for every child born, its parents must opt to either have the child live forever without a tree to themselves (ergo giving them up and letting them die) or sacrifice both the mother and father's trees to the government. The mother's tree goes to the child, and the father's tree goes to the government. This is a scheme in place to reduce the population to accommodate for having very limited resources.


	2. Chapter 2

Yao blinked his eyes open. A few days had passed as per usual. He and Ivan would rise here, in their home, in the alley, and then go to work. Sixteen hours meant three syringes each, and they could scrape by on one each per day. Saving up was good, and the pay Francis gave them was great. No-one else worked for Francis the Giver as long as they did. "Hey, wake up now," Yao said, sitting up from where he'd been laying on Ivan. Ivan was much preferable to lay on than the cold alley ground. Yao had almost traded a syringe for some cardboard sheets to make shelter with, but decided Sustenance was more important than luxuries like that.

Ivan slowly blinked his eyes open behind the thick lenses of his gasmask. "Your elephant's eyes are all cloudy," Yao frowned, looking all down the sleeve of his coat and trying to find a relatively clean spot. Once he found a slightly unmarked patch of fabric, he gently rubbed it on Ivan's lenses so he could see better. "I swear, we go to sleep, and wake up covered in a whole new layer of grit. My hair was dark before, now it is just black."

"Well, I like it whatever colour it is," said Ivan, humming softly to himself and reaching tiredly up to touch Yao's straw-like hair. "Are you ever going to get it cutted?"

"Get it cut, Ivan. Not cutted," he corrected, laughing tiredly. "I don't know. Maybe. I like it long, even though I can't wash it now."

"That's a weird thing," Ivan mused, crinkling his nose and slowly sitting up. "Washing your hair."

Yao sighed and started to get ready to get up. Ivan helped him set up his tree case on his back again, and Yao helped Ivan do the same with his own. "I have my checkup today," he mumbled, pulling the lidded syringes from his pocket and sighing. "But first, we have to eat. Here, can you do yours? I probably overslept." He nodded slightly, offering one of the syringes to Ivan.

"I hate doing my own," he mumbled, staring at the Sustenance Fluids before shakily taking the cap off the syringe. Frightened, he brought it to his neck, and took a deep breath.

"Wrong place," said Yao quickly, just snatching the syringe from Ivan's hands and pressing it quickly into his shoulder. "Ivan, you have to remember where it goes."

Ivan frowned and fiddled with his hands as Yao injected his own. As the nutrients started to start working within their systems, Yao got up and helped Ivan to his feet. "Are you going to wait for me outside the doctor's?" Yao asked, putting two fresh syringes in his pocket (he'd pay the doctor with them), and the two empty ones in his other.

"Where else would I go?" Ivan smiled.

They walked to the doctors, and Ivan sat outside while he waited for Yao's appointment to be over, Ivan watched the people pass. He wondered why Yao called their masks 'elephants'. Just what was an elephant, exactly? It sounded dangerous, thought Ivan. He wouldn't like to run into an elephant. It would probably scare him. Maybe it was a kind of machine, or a disease. Could gasmasks look like diseases? Ivan observed everyone passing. Before Yao came out, a large bell started to toll though the city from the old bell tower. It seemed their mayor was going to speak today. The people from inside the doctor's building began to walk out, Yao included in the small group.

"What did the doctor say?" said Ivan, straightening up and slowly moving over to Yao.

"He said we've got to go and listen to our beloved mayor," he deadpanned. "I donated our empty syringes, too."

"Alright," Ivan said quietly. "To the town square, then?"

"Oh boy." said Yao as they started to head off.

The town square was incredibly populated, perhaps thirty or forty people gathered. That was more than Ivan had ever seen in one place in his entire life. "A big crowd today," wooed Ivan, holding onto Yao's sleeve like a small child would with their mother. Not that he knew that was what he was emulating. He didn't have a mother, not since he'd received her tree.

"I think this might be everyone in the city," Yao mumbled, edging into the crowd and stopping once he had found a spot with enough space for Ivan to stand beside him. Up front, behind the podium, stood a man codenamed as 'Smiling Tom'. No-one knew what his real name was. Yao knew he wasn't from here. He spoke another language when people weren't supposed to be looking. The nickname came from the large smiling grin painted onto his elephant.

"People of the city! Citizens, my dear friends," he began, arms moving quickly and vibrantly as he talked. Yao tried to remember what country's people did that. It had been a long time since countries had mattered. "I have come here today to assure you that we can be saved! Purification, cleansing! It is not far away!" he bellowed, throwing his arms up in what Yao could only assume to be enthusiasm. His dark chestnut hair was incredibly curly, and oddly, it wasn't covered with grit and soot. He hadn't been in the city long, obviously. Yao made a scrupulous and hidden pout up at Smiling Tom.

"Eradicate the sinful!" he bellowed, pointing out over the crowd. "While they still exist, God's punishment will continue to poison our hearts! With your devotion, we can live without our masks once again! The world can be pure!" There were positive murmurs around the crowd. Those born Before were all hanging on Smiling Tom's words as some fanatical hope for themselves and their salvation. Yao was not among those of good faith. He hated every word, because he knew they were lies. People would do anything for power, wouldn't they? Or perhaps, Smiling Tom was a true believer of his stupid religious words. "Eradicate those showing any of the seven deadly sins! Rid yourselves of those curses upon humanity! You and I can work together and save our city!"

Yao scoffed quietly, looking to Ivan. Ivan seemed to be a bit entranced by Smiling Tom's speech. "We're leaving," Yao mumbled, lightly taking Ivan's sleeve and starting to pull him out through the back end of the crowd. Ivan didn't say anything, just sighing and lightly following Yao. As they escaped the crowd, Yao felt more resistance from the man he pulled along behind him. After this started getting on his nerves, he turned his head, pausing in his walking. "What is it? Keep up," he huffed, letting go of Ivan's coat and turning his whole body to face him.

"Your tree.." Ivan frowned, moving around behind his friend and gently putting his hands on the glass of Yao's capsule. "It looks a little like Mister Giver's. Is it supposed to?"

"No, it's not supposed to." Yao murmured. "My tree is dying. I know." Ivan fell silent, fearful as to just what that meant. "Come on. We're going home." No-one spoke again until they were back in the alley.

"Do you want to lay on me?" asked Ivan as Yao lifted his tree case from his back and lightly set it down on the ground. Ivan sat beside it, back up against the alley wall.

"I'll lay beside you," Yao nodded, settling down beside him, and resting his head lightly on Ivan's chest. He helped Ivan in draping one arm around his shoulders. He always felt safer when Ivan held him. Another silence befell them, until Yao decided to break it. "Do you believe what Smiling Tom says?"

"Honestly?.." said Ivan, looking down at Yao and putting his other arm around him too. "I don't know. He seems like he could be onto something."

"I don't think there is a God," said Yao quietly. "If there was, would He let this happen to the world?"

"I thought you said people Before were pretty bad. Maybe it was a punishment."

"A true God would not do something like this to us," Yao murmured, trying to press his face against Ivan's chest. His elephant's trunk just bent uncomfortably, so he gave up, and rested the side of his face on Ivan instead. "If He exists, 'God' has forsaken us and left us to die on the planet we destroyed."

"So, Yao," Ivan said quietly, after another moment of silence. He shifted a little, leaning closer to his friend. "What are you going to do?" Yao tilted his head a bit, and laughed sadly.

"I'm going to die."

"Before that happens," Ivan mumbled. "Is there something you are going to do before that happens?"

"I don't know," he said softly. "If there's anything I want, I-.." His voice was growing shaky with a fear he didn't want to admit was piercing his heart. "I want.. To feel alive again," Yao whispered, putting his arms back around Ivan. "I want to feel again, I want to feel the wind in my hair, I want to feel the sun on my skin one last time before I go. I want the world to go back to how it was," he whimpered.

Ivan had never seen Yao this meek and tearful, and he didn't know why, but his eyes felt odd behind his elephant's lenses. It wasn't like they hurt, but they felt.. Ivan couldn't find a word for it. He felt sad, and his eyes itched ever so slightly. He felt something fall down his cheek from inside his mask. "I want to make that happen for you," he said quietly, staring down at Yao. The bottom of his vision became blurred from something, and he blinked rapidly. His eyelashes only caught something cold on them, and it became harder to see at all. "I.. I think I'm going blind," he said quietly, leaning down. "My eyes are falling out.. I-"

"You're crying," Yao mumbled, lip quivering. "You're crying, Ivan. That's what it's called. Your eyes are fine," he whimpered, unable to hold back tears of his own. "There's some water in them. Remember what I told you water was?"

"Oh, yeah," he said weakly, sniffling instinctively. "Water's the stuff you put in your mouth. Why is it in my eyes?"

"Because you're sad," Yao answered quietly. "The world is sad, and unfair, and unjust, and I'm sad too," he cried softly. "And you're going to be left alone again."

Ivan cried more at this, actually letting out a weak sob from his mouth. "Why am I doing this?" he whimpered, despairing and petrified. He hadn't cried since he was first born, and he didn't understand. He had been a very quiet child. "Why am I doing this?!"

"Shut up, Ivan," Yao mumbled, lightly punching Ivan's chest. "You don't understand, and you probably never will, just shut up," he breathed. He was really too emotionally worn to explain every human function to his After companion.

"Okay," he mumbled.

After a while of quiet, Ivan did something stupid. As Yao's crying started to recede into silence, he lifted the bottom of his mask, then pressing his dry lips to a relatively undirtied spot on Yao's head. He had managed to get a spot on the side of Yao's face, not covered by the elephant. It was just beneath his temple. Just as quickly as he'd lifted it, Ivan put his elephant back on properly, and let out the breath he'd been holding. Yao tensed, looking up at him. "You told me your mother did that?" he said quietly, voice trembling and wavering slightly. "I want to make you feel better," he said quietly.

"Never take off your mask, you idiot," Yao hissed. "Idiot. Don't do that." He breathed. "I appreciate the sentiment, but don't risk anything like that for me." He, of course, had his heart warmed by the notion. However, he valued Ivan's safety over his own wellbeing.

"I'm going to help you," said Ivan softly, determinedly.

"What? What are you talking about?" mumbled Yao, tugging lightly at the fabric of Ivan's coat. "I'm beyond help. The doctor says I'm going to die and I can't be helped."

"Didn't you tell me that everyone dies one day?" Ivan murmured. "I'm going to help you get what you want."

"Yeah, right," Yao mumbled. "I can't see the world fixed. It's too late for that."

"I'll take you out of the city," suggested Ivan, in a soft, cautious tone of voice. "You can feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your skin."

"That's such a stupid idea," he murmured. "What if something happened to me while we were out of the city? You wouldn't make it back alone."

"I think you're what matters most to me." said Ivan, lowering his head. "If I don't make it back after losing you, I will be okay with that. I don't see a future without you in it."

"You're such stupid dreamer," mumbled Yao, closing his eyes and resting more against his companion. "Thank you." He really didn't think Ivan was serious.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are there guards?" asked Ivan, putting all the SF syringes he and Yao had collected into his coat pockets. They had been working even longer hours for the past week. "Near the end of the city, I mean."

"I think so," frowned Yao. "We can try sneaking past them. There's sure to be some gaps in their security. Once they were both packed up and ready, Yao let out a deep breath and reached for Ivan's hand. Ivan didn't move it away, instead just looking down at their now-laced fingers. "This is a thing of affection. It means I like you. It makes me feel good, what about you?"

"It makes me feel good too," Ivan nodded a little, lips moving into a soft smile. "I like you too."

Yao led Ivan out to the city's edge, and they crouched behind some tall rubble, both peeking out at the guards. They were strategically positioned around the city's perimeter so that if anyone passed them, they could easily cry out and alert others. How irritating. "I have an idea," said Yao, quietly. "Don't say anything." He calmly stood up, still holding Ivan's hand. He pretended to hold something within his own coat. Slowly, they approached one of the guards.

"Excuse us, sir," said Yao, lowering his head. "We are couriers to be sent to the next city over. If you don't mind, we would appreciate your letting us through the gate."

"There is no next city over," scoffed the guard. "There's no nothing. Kid, I don't give a shit who you are, but you're not a courier."

"W-well," coughed Yao, awkwardly. "Can we pass through anyway?"

"Your death wish, kid," the guard mused, stepping out of the way. Ivan and Yao passed.

"Why would anyone wish for death? What does that mean?" Ivan asked, looking down at Yao as they started to walk. Buildings seemed to become harder to find as they walked. Turns out that the guards were stationed within the city limits, and the end of the city and the start of the rest of the world was further on. They were almost there.

"Some people think it's an easy way out of something too difficult for them," Yao answered softly. "Too many people ended their lives during the Dark. They thought all hope was lost."

"I thought you said all hope was lost," frowned Ivan. "Does this mean you want your life to end?"

"No, Ivan," Yao frowned. "I want to stay here with you."

They were quiet once more until they reached the very lip of the torn and twisted city. Ivan's eyes grew wide, and he stared out at what greeted them. Past the final city lines was barren. A broken, desolate, dust-cloaked wasteland. Billions of dollars worth of bank notes were scattered across the earth, with many notes flying about in the air for some very obvious reason. That odd force was pushing at them, too. "Wind," said Yao, turning and facing the weak current. "It's wind! Come on, Ivan! Let's go!" he cried, starting to run forward, pulling Ivan along by his hand. Laughing stupidly, Yao ran out onto the cracked ground, letting go of Ivan's hand so that he could spin around. "It's the wind!"

"This is the wind," nodded Ivan, feeling his hair being whipped this way and that by the nearly violent air. "Was this common Before?"

"Yes," breathed Yao. "There was wind everywhere. Sometimes it was soft, sometimes it would lift you off your feet. It feels so good, Ivan!" He laughed deliriously and waltzed around in the wind, being blown this way and that by the biting blustery weather. When he grew tired of that, he sighed contently and stumbled back to Ivan. "I missed it so much."

"There's no wind in the city," remarked Ivan, watching Yao's hair billow this way and that, much how his own was. Yao's was longer and more beautiful, though. "I understand."

"Well, onward! We can keep enjoying the wind on our way out!" laughed Yao, pointing forward and merrily putting one arm around Ivan's waist.

"Where are we going?" Ivan asked, catching Yao's contagious good mood.

"I don't know," Yao laughed almost hysterically. "Out! We're going out, we're walking on free ground! It's a change of scenery, that's what I want," he chortled, incredibly upbeat for once. Ivan smiled and nodded his head.

"Okay. Let's go forward for a while, then! Then we can come back," he nodded.

"I don't know if I want to go back, Ivan," Yao whined, leaning on his friend as he walked. "I don't want to die in that shithole of a city. I want to be free," he laughed tiredly.

"I see," huffed Ivan, smile lost now. He didn't want Yao to die at all.

"You know," said Yao after a while of walking, after a while of passing by animal skeletons and long-dead plants. "I still remember bits of what it was like. You know, before the Dark."

"Ooh! I like hearing about Before," Ivan hummed. He had been born a year after the Dark, so he didn't know anything of the old world first-hand. Everything he knew of Before, he knew thanks to Yao. Their seven years of age difference didn't stop them from being close friends. "Tell me!"

"Do you see these things?" he asked, pointing to the various skeletons around the ground. "They look like shards of plaster, don't they?"

"They do," nodded Ivan, wondering where Yao was going with this.

"Those are bones. They are from inside of animals, like us. But not like us, too. They are not humans, but different kinds of things. Some walked on four legs."

"Humans that had four legs?" Ivan wheezed, confused.

"No, that's not it," frowned Yao. "They weren't humans at all. Anyway, there were lots of different types of animals on this planet. These bones are from the ones that died here. Their flesh and skin has been destroyed by now." Ivan nodded a little, picking up a small bone, perhaps from something that used to be a dog. He put it in an empty coat pocket and walked on. "Taking souvenirs?" he asked.

"I'm going to study it later," Ivan cooed. "It's new and interesting."

Yao nodded and continued walking. "So," he said, looking up at Ivan. "Do you want to hear more about Before?" Yao already knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

"Of course!" Ivan replied almost instantly. Yao sighed.

"You know how I was born before the Dark?" he said, looking down at his feet with every step. Every footfall felt heavier than the last when these thoughts weighed on his mind. "We weren't expecting anything like the Dark to ever come. The people behind it were, but as citizens, we were incredibly unaware." Ivan nodded, not wanting to speak until the story had run its course.

"We all breathed in the toxic air at least once," said Yao, quietly. "My mother tried to save my brother and I by covering our mouths and running to an area about to become quarantined. Do you know what quarantine is?"

"Yes, I do. They had a quarantine run at the Right Place, once," he said.

"We were put in there, and we were given our tree cases. Well, Kiku and I were. My mother was not. She was dead in front of us before we knew what had happened." he murmured. "My little brother – that is Kiku-, he breathed in too much of the air, and he killed his tree with every poisoned exhalation. He died." Ivan was quiet, keeping his hidden gaze on Yao and his cheerless expression. "I breathed in a little of that air, Ivan. And I've known for years it would end up being my cause of death. I just didn't know when."

"Do you know when, now?" Ivan asked.

"Probably soon," murmured Yao. "It was dormant in my lungs for years. I started exhaling a weak poison probably around the start of last year. It's killing me gradually."

"Oh."

"Every time I breathe out, Ivan, I poison myself a little more. Every time I breathe in, I take in that recycled poison, and it just gets worse. It's inescapable, and inevitable." Yao said dryly, coldly. Ivan already missed the joyful and hysterical Yao from earlier. "I'm killing my tree every time I breathe."

"The wind is blowing," Ivan said quietly, pointing up to nowhere in particular in the air. "We should smile and dance in it."

"Thanks for trying, Ivan," Yao sighed. "That's worth something. May we embrace?"

"Yes," nodded Ivan, turning and curling his arms around his small companion. "I'll help you get your last wishes," he said, nodding ever so slightly. "What about the sunshine?"

"It's dark," Yao said, pressing his cheek to Ivan's chest. "That means it is night time. No sun until tomorrow. I know how to make light, though. Francis the Giver taught me."

"I didn't know you could make light," said Ivan, quizzically tilting his head and pausing in stroking Yao's head. "It only comes out of the sun, doesn't it?"

"No, there is another way," nodded Yao. Slowly, he parted from Ivan, and glanced around. "Get me some of the floating material," he said, pointing to various bank notes flying around in the wind. "I will set up what I need to make light."

While Ivan obediently ran around catching hundreds of dollars, Yao dug out a pit in the hard earth with a large fragment of bone. He then put bones around the outside, and called his After companion over. "Ivan!" he summoned. "Bring all that over here. Also, some dead plant," he said, pointing to a shrub. Ivan pulled it and a few others easily from the ground, and put one in the hole as Yao had told him to. After stuffing the money and shrubbery into the hole, Yao got to work. Francis had taught him how to make fire with friction, and Yao worked furiously to get it started. Once he had a wisp of smoke flying upward and into the now-slower wind, Yao blew on it, spreading the tiny flame he had made. It soon caught and spread, and a fire was born within the pit.

"Whoa," mumbled Ivan, fascinated by the bright orange light. "I've never seen anything like it." He began to reach out to put his hand on it, but Yao smacked it away.

"You'll hurt yourself if you touch it," Yao scolded. "It is very hot."

"Sorry," Ivan laughed quietly, moving back and shuffling over to sit next to Yao. "This is very interesting. What is it?"

"It's a fire," Yao smiled, poking the flame with a bit of bone. "It was discovered a very long time ago. It is very interesting indeed."

"What is it 'eating'?" asked Ivan, pulling a burning hundred-dollar note from the blaze. Yao smacked it out of his hand and back into the fire.

"You'll burn yourself," Yao huffed. He had the common sense to avoid touching the flame, even though he couldn't feel the heat through his gloves. "It is eating money."

"What's money?" Ivan queried, leaning in and expecting a story.

"Currency of Before." Yao answered. "Some papers were worth more than others. You could trade money for various goods and services."

"Like SFs? Could you eat money?"

"No, it didn't work like that."

After a quiet conversation and their daily injections, Ivan and Yao curled up by the dying fire. "Is it full?" asked Ivan, holding Yao in his arms and watching the faint glow of the embers within the pit. "Has the fire eated enough?"

"Eaten," Yao corrected. "Yes. We could feed it more, but it is easier to sleep in the dark."

"What about the monsters in the dark?" Ivan insisted quietly, lightly pulling at Yao's shirt. "I don't want them to have eated me in my sleep."

"They won't have eated you," said Yao, closing his eyes and leaning ever so slightly closer to Ivan. "You've got me to protect you."


	4. Chapter 4

As morning came and the harsh sun shone bright, Yao blinked his eyes open. "Ah.. Morning," he breathed. "I wish I could feel the sunlight on my skin, not just on my eyes." Ivan was roused by the soft sound of Yao's words, and he lightly sat up.

"Maybe you could roll down your sleeve just for a moment," he said, ruffling his messy, grit-filled hair.

"I haven't done that in years," Yao scoffed softly, putting his hand gently on his arm. Slowly, he rolled it up, soft, olive skin being shown to the sun again. He had paled considerably since Before, yet he was sure he was still darker-skinned than Ivan. Slowly, he lifted his arm, laughing stupidly as he felt the harsh sunlight on his skin.

From being sheltered so long beneath his sleeve, his skin was soft and vulnerable, and it hurt near instantly to be exposed to the elements so suddenly. Yao flinched when he felt his skin itch from the painful light. He quickly lowered his arm, not laughing anymore. His skin looked so easily burnt, and he sighed, rolling down his sleeve. "Oh well," he frowned, standing up slowly and putting his tree case onto his back. "Ivan, help me out." Ivan did as commanded, and Yao helped him with his own tree. They injected their daily SF, and Yao stretched his arms.

"Do we keep going?" asked Ivan, smiling faintly and glancing around. "Oh, look, I can see the city," he said, pointing to a bump on the horizon. "It glows."

"So it does," Yao agreed, looking first at the city. His gaze then drifted upward, at the speedily moving clouds. They weren't ash clouds, and they were not the distinct grey smog of the Dark, so Yao wondered if they could have been rainclouds. "We need to get to shelter," he said quietly, alarmedly watching the clouds blowing toward where they were. They had perhaps half an hour to forty-five minutes to find shelter. Of course, Ivan didn't understand time, so he would've found those numbers irrelevant had Yao chosen to speak them.

"There is no shelter," Ivan pointed out, glancing around the flat environment that surrounded them. "Where do we go?"

"I can see a tall dead tree," Yao wheezed, unbelieving. "Whoa! Look, Ivan! It's a big tree!" he cried, pointing to a tall object on the horizon. It indeed was a tall dead tree, with a hulking greyed trunk and branches reaching out like rabid claws with no real target. Ivan was amazed. He had never seen a tree so tall or wild before, or big, for that matter. He didn't seem to care that it was dead. It still fascinated him.

"Whoa!" cried Ivan, hands clenching in and out of fists in his excitement. He was mostly trying not to run off toward it to look closer. "Can we go there?! It's so huge! It's not even in glass!" he cried, very animated.

Yao sighed softly, and they went to the tree. It was a lot bigger up close, and Ivan bounced around it excitedly. He had never seen a tree this big before, and was fascinated with its every aspect. He ran his gloved fingers down the trunk, before jumping around the twisted and mangled roots like a child.

"This is a tree," Yao smiled, putting down his tree case and resting his back against the trunk. He put his arms against it in a backwards hug. "A tree that grew not in glass, but in clean air," he laughed quietly.

"It's incredible!" cheered Ivan, bouncing around and back to Yao. He copied Yao, leaning against the tree too. Somehow, their hands came together, and their fingers laced before either one of them had the idea to stop themselves. He was smiling so very widely behind his elephant.

"It had leaves, once," sighed Yao, turning his head a little and looking at his companion. "They were big, green leaves that would turn red in autumn, and then fall off when winter came."

"I thought leaves only fell off when a tree died," frowned Ivan.

"There are no seasons within a glass capsule, Ivan. Leaves fall so new ones can grow."

"I see," said Ivan, although he did not. "Are there still seasons?"

"I don't know," admitted Yao, quietly. "It feels vaguely colder sometimes. But it's hard to feel under thick coats and elephants."

They fell silent for a while, before slowly sliding down and sitting together, backs against the trunk, hands clasped loosely. "I wish the Dark never happened," Yao said quietly.

"Me too."

Another few moments of silence passed. "I wish I'd been born After, you know," Yao continued quietly. "I wouldn't remember things of Before, and I could be as blissfully ignorant as you and the other young people," he scoffed weakly. "You all make me feel so old."

"You are very old," Ivan retorted.

"Maybe in mind, but not in body."

"What's that?" Ivan asked, lifting his free hand and pointing out across the horizon.

"What's what?" huffed Yao. He lifted a sleeve to wipe his elephant's lenses, and ended up smearing grit on them. "Damn it," he muttered quietly. "Describe it to me," he mumbled, letting go of Ivan's hand to try and clean his mask properly.

"It is.. Hard to see clearly," Ivan nodded. "There are lots of.. things," he murmured, squinting off into the distance. It took less than a moment for the rain to start where they were. Ivan only really became aware of this when drops started to pitter-patter onto his hair, and he jolted in surprise and shock.

"Rain!" gasped Yao, grinning widely. "It's rain! Ivan, this is water!" he grinned. "Look!" Yao had managed to clean his mask by now, and was gladly staring up at the clouds. "Here it is!" he grinned, holding out his gloved hand to try and catch some. It didn't want to co-operate, so Yao, in his excitement, did something stupid.

"Rain?" asked Ivan, turning his head and almost jumping when he saw Yao lift the bottom of his mask and stick out his tongue, presumably to catch some rain on. "Yao!" he cried, not touching him in fear of hurting him. "What are you doing?!"

Yao did not answer, just waiting and holding his breath until he caught a drop of rain. It didn't take long, but when the water hit his tongue, it was not as expected. He had never even heard of acid rain. As soon as the hot acid splashed on his tongue, Yao wheezed and spat, trying his best to get it out of his mouth. "Fuck!" he cried into the air, coughing and gagging. Thinking quickly, he put his mask back on, still tasting the disgusting smoggy air in his throat. "Fuck," he mumbled softly. "Ivan, we need to go into shelter," he wheezed weakly, dryly. He just grabbed Ivan by the collar and yanked him into the hollow. There was still a bit of an opening at the top of the hollow tree trunk, but most of it was sheltered.

"Yao! What were you doing?!" cried Ivan, worried sick. "You breathed in some of the air?! I thought you were telling me off for taking my mask off before! What were you thinking?" he whimpered, clutching onto Yao's coat and straddling him, holding him against the inner wall of the hollow. "Do you want to die sooner than you have to?!" Yao was very taken aback, and shrunk in Ivan's grasp. He looked down, trying not to cry.

"I just wanted to taste water again," he sniffled quietly, like a child scorned. "I've fucked up again."

"You make me so worried," Ivan said weakly, leaning down and putting his arms around Yao. "Stop doing that."

Only a scarce few drops of acid hit them now, thankfully not strong enough to eat away at the thick material of their coats. Ivan eventually relaxed a bit, leaning his back against the inner hollow wall and keeping one of his arms around his companion's shoulders. "Is the outside world as good as you'd thought it would be?" Ivan asked after a while, staring blankly forward at nothing in particular. "Has your wish been granted?"

"My wish," Yao echoed, voice empty and dull. "Hah. The outside world is just a shell of what it used to be. Maybe I'll dream of Before when I die."

"I didn't think the dead could dream," said Ivan.

"Yet here I am." Yao scoffed quietly, turning and pressing his cheek gently against Ivan's chest. "You know, Ivan, I think, maybe, I'm in love with you."

"Oh, okay," Ivan said. "What is that?"

Yao laughed, softly, bitterly. He hadn't expected Ivan to know. And he supposed that made admitting his feelings easier. "Love is wanting to spend your whole life with someone; love is laughing at nothing and just wanting to be close; love is being together to the end." He mumbled, upset, especially by that last point. "At least, that's what I've been told. I think you're supposed to make your own definitions."

"I'm going to be with you to the end," said Ivan, turning his head to glance down at Yao.

"You're my only friend, you know that?" Yao mumbled. "I love you."

"Does this mean I love you?" Ivan responded softly, sitting up a bit and gently petting Yao's shoulder.

Yao let out a weary laugh, and leant back. "I guess it does."


	5. Chapter 5

When the rain finally stopped, Ivan and Yao started on their way back. The original plan had been to leave and die out here, as far as Yao had thought. But he changed his mind too late, and wanted Ivan to go home. That's all he wanted now. He'd seen the outside, felt the wind, saw the sunlight. All that was left before he died was to see Ivan go home safe. With every step they took, Yao felt his body start to shut down a little more. All of the smog he'd breathed in, as well as the acid he'd swallowed, were making the process accelerate within his respiratory system. His breath became raspy sometimes, and he'd need to keep stopping and hold Ivan to try and regain his senses. The poison grew stronger with every deadly exhalation.

They were half a day's travel from the city when Yao mumbled that he needed to stop. "Ivan, stop walking," he mumbled, leaning over and breathing laboredly, supporting himself by bending his knees and resting his hands on them. "Wait." Ivan turned, looking at his companion with concern hidden behind elephant eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," Yao mumbled. "I'm not. Ivan, please," he coughed, trying to stand up straight. "Let's rest for now." It was early afternoon, not that you could easily tell. The sky was almost always grey. There were no vibrant pinks or oranges to tell you that the day was almost done, that your hard work was appreciated, that life will carry on. Just grey.

Ivan, under instructions from Yao, dug out a fire pit and filled it with money and dead shrubs, like last time. He had a small blaze going in a short while, and he sat down beside it with Yao. Neither of them had anything to say, either. Ivan wasn't one to start a conversation out of a long silence, and Yao was too afraid to speak any part of his sick mind. But after a while, when night had come, Yao broke their silence. "Ivan," he addressed, capturing Ivan's full attention immediately. "Take my mask off. I.. I want you to see my face." Ivan was confused and worried. He had never seen Yao's face before, and if Yao were to take off his mask, that would surely make his condition worse. "I want you to see it, come on."

"Why?" he asked, slowly lifting his hand and placing it on the side of Yao's head. "What good would that do?"

"I want you to see it with colour in it," Yao murmured, putting his hand upon Ivan's and breathing unsteadily. "Before I die."

"Are you dying now?" Ivan asked, quietly.

"I might be."

Ivan tried his best to stay calm. "Okay," he breathed. "Hold your breath," he instructed, before lightly pulling Yao's mask from his face. He hadn't seen the face of another human since he was a tiny child, so this was incredible to Ivan. Yao was slight, with baby fat on his cheeks and a small nose that had a gentle upward slant. Yao tried to keep his lips smiling, but he had to stop as he coughed. He hadn't been holding his breath. He was dying anyway, and he felt he wouldn't make it much further. "Hold your breath!" Ivan yelped softly, fumbling and hurriedly placing Yao's mask back on. "Listen to me!"

"I want to see your face too," Yao said hoarsely, throat sore from the bad air. "Show me your face, Ivan Braginsky." He was smiling dopily behind his elephant, maybe in some kind of euphoric fantasy state. Ivan said nothing, too shocked to react wisely. "Ivan! Show it to me!" Yao barked, momentarily raising his voice.

"Yao," he mumbled. "Why are you acting this way?"

"Show me your face," Yao whined, pulling roughly at Ivan's coat. "Come on." Ivan, frightened, slowly moved his mask. Yao smiled stupidly behind his mask, tearing up. He had longed to see another face, and Ivan was a beautiful young man. Dumbly, and in the heat of the moment, Yao tore his own mask off and grabbed Ivan's face in his hands.

Their lips met clumsily and heatedly, and Ivan's eyes shot wide open as he fell back under Yao's weight, the older man now pressing down on him. He pulled away in an instant, gasping for the air he realized too late was toxic. He quickly returned his mask, staring at Yao, terrified. "Put your mask on!" he cried, staring at Yao's dirty face. Yao just smiled stupidly and slowly returned his mask. "Are you trying to die, Yao!? What is your problem!" he blubbered, distressed.

"That's a kiss, remember," Yao laughed, just laying on Ivan and looking at the fire. "I love you. I love you so much."

"Why do you keep telling me this?" Ivan sniffled, sitting up again and holding his companion tightly in his arms. "I know. I do too."

"You know," said Yao, smiling up at him behind his elephant. "I think there is still beauty in this life," he chuckled. "And I've had him with me for a long time. Maybe you're the light in the dark, Ivan."

"I'm not," he mumbled, confused by the delirious nonsense Yao was spouting. "What are you talking about? You aren't making sense, Yao. Please talk to me."

"I'm dying, Ivan," Yao said. "Right now, I'm dying. I can feel it."

"Are you?" Ivan mumbled, saddened greatly. "What can I do?"

"Grant me one final wish, okay?" Yao smiled, dumbly. "Can you show me a smile, as I go? I want to see your face smiling. That's it." Ivan faintly nodded his head. He didn't fully comprehend how serious Yao was. There was another ten minutes of silence, Yao's breathing beginning to slow down and grow harder to hear. Ivan glanced to Yao's tree, watching as the last leaf clung to one of the tiny branches. The rest were dead and crumpled around the tree's base. Ivan had lost track of how long they had been out of the city. Perhaps time here was just an illusion.

"Show me now," whispered Yao, finding it growing increasingly harder to draw a full breath. "Come on." He tried reaching up his arms, but Ivan caught his hands and wrapped an arm around Yao's side, repositioning him a little in his lap.

"Okay," Ivan mumbled, slowly removing his mask and putting it down beside him. He would hold his clean breath for as long as he could. And he smiled. He smiled as much as he could, looking down at Yao's eyes, not that he could see them.

"Take my mask off," Yao said quietly, gently tugging on Ivan's coat. "I want to smile too." Not saying anything, Ivan followed his orders, and gently removed Yao's mask. He put it with his own. "Thanks."

Yao smiled too, weakly, wearily. Even Ivan could see how exhausted he looked. Perhaps just breathing was a lot of hard work right now. "We are smiling, Ivan," he said quietly, wheezing as he breathed in the smog. "Thanks for taking me out here."

"I love you," Ivan mumbled, his smile trembling as his lips refused to stop quivering. He felt like he was going to cry again. "Please don't go. I don't want you to go. The world's going to get clean like Smiling Tom says, Yao, please don't go."

"I have to," Yao said quietly. "I don't want to go, but I have to. It's okay, Ivan. I love you." Yao whispered, voice husky and sore as he breathed.

Yao kept his smile until the last moment. He let out a quiet noise, perhaps a half-hearted laugh, or at least, part of one. Once that had left the air, he passed away, smile disappearing from his lips, eyes flicking shut. Ivan weakly put his own mask back on. Yao couldn't see his smile any more. He cried, and he wailed for a long time, holding Yao closely against his chest. Ivan lost his sight after only a few moments, his tears fogging up the inner lenses of his elephant's eyes. He had the dignity not to say any more. After crying himself hoarse, Ivan lay Yao to rest, laying him down peacefully beside the fire that had been crackling quietly for most of the afternoon, and all of the evening so far. Ivan wistfully stood.

"Goodbye," he said quietly, looking down at his dead companion a moment more, before starting to walk in the direction of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end. the next chapter is the epilogue.


	6. Epilogue

He walked, slowly, patiently, down the street, long pike in one of his pale hands. He was never really too fond of his complexion. He had never really gotten used to the repaired sunlight, and unlike all of the other young men these days, he would simply burn instead of tanning. He spiked the pieces of assorted garbage that covered the city street until his pike was full, and then he slid them off into the thick bag he held in his other hand. Times like this he wished his boots were better-fitting for all the walking he did.

Ivan had a job as a trash collector, and he had worked at this for a long time. He was twenty now, having been a part of the city cleanup for five years. As his mind flicked back to five years ago, he remembered today was the anniversary. Five whole years, eh? he thought to himself. "It's been a while."

"Been a while since what?" asked Natalya, a small girl walking along beside him. She was his little six year old sister, in a way. He had taken her in after her parents had died of the smog, much like Yao.

"The man I love died." Ivan answered. He'd vaguely mentioned Yao to her perhaps once or twice.

"Oh, right," she nodded, reaching up and taking Ivan's big hand. "Do you still love him?" Natalya asked quietly, looking up at her big brother with large dark blue eyes and a soft frown. There was no need for elephants anymore; technology had advanced through these twenty-one years of suffering to fix the world, what with the trees from tree cases being genetically modified to grow larger and stronger, and water beginning to be purified for drinking. Even now that things were better, humans were right back to tossing their garbage wherever they wanted. Ivan didn't want that. He had promised Yao a clean world.

"Of course I do." Ivan smiled, gently tousling her scruffy hair and fixing up the ribbon that was threatening to fall out. "And I love you too, sestra."

Ivan finished his rounds, and paid a trip to Francis the Giver after dropping Natalya off at the child safety center. It was better for Natalya to spend some time with a big sister figure, and Ivan had found a lovely woman there who would care for her when he needed his time alone. He appreciated Katyusha. "Good evening, Francis the Giver," he said, sighing quietly and sitting down in the grass. "Oh, I brought you something," he nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out something he'd bought in the Right Place this morning. Speaking of which, at this time, the Right Place was hardly just a ghetto anymore. In fact, the whole area had been transformed radically, turning into a blossoming marketplace for trades of all kind. It was the heart of the breathing city. "It's called a 'crepe'," he said, pulling the packaged bit of food out of the wrappers and putting it down amongst the roses. "They said it was a recipe from France, which is where you came from, right?" he laughed.

Francis the Giver said nothing, and in the silence, Ivan smiled. "Thanks again for your sympathies all those days ago," he smiled faintly. "I'll come visit you on your birthday. Another important anniversary I must remember," he chuckled, sighing softly and touching the earth in front of him. "I really must buy one of those new 'calendar' things. Apparently people who survived the Dark used them. They're so odd! They have all these funny symbols on them, and apparently it helps organize what day it is, or something," he mused. "Did you hear of a calendar?" Ivan sighed softly and pet Francis's headstone twice, before slowly standing up and stretching his arms. "Oh well. Au revoir," he cooed, before leaving the grave and heading homes. Calendars were not the only things resurrected nowadays; languages had been carried on by the few people who learnt and survived long enough to teach. It was a real fad nowadays to be fluent in a couple of languages. Ivan only really bothered taking Russian and French. He found those the most interesting.

When he returned to the small apartment he called home, Ivan sighed and headed straight out to the balcony. It was his favourite place to be. From this spot, at the little table near the railing, he could look out at the sky and feel like he was talking straight to Heaven. Smiling Tom, who had only a few years ago come out as a man from Long Before named Romulus, was head of the city's churches, and sometimes, when he didn't have a shift of trash collection, Ivan would attend. He learned about Heaven and Hell, and all of what was inbetween. He wasn't sure how much he believed. He wanted to believe what Yao thought about God all those years ago, about how God had forsaken them and would not have let this plague overcome them if he had truly existed, but he could not. Ivan couldn't find it in himself to blame anyone or force anger onto anyone for Yao's death. He believed Yao had gone up to Heaven, and that he would like it there, with the animals and the family members he had lost. And so, talking to Heaven was what Ivan did often.

"Good evening," he said to the setting sun, watching as the sky dappled pink and orange. He wondered how he ever lived without these colours that were finally starting to show as the last of the smog was drawn from the air of this world. Colour was so beautiful, and so striking to a boy who had only ever seen the world in greyscale. "Yao," he said quietly, smiling, because that is what Yao would have wanted. "My love. How are you?" he asked, sitting at the small table and leaning back in his chair. "That's good. Me too."

"They're starting to make food again, you know," Ivan mused softly. "I can hardly eat any at once because my stomach is very small," he scoffed, thinking back to the doctors when he'd scoffed down a large plate of expensive food only to throw it up because he'd been on SFs almost his whole life. "It all costs so much, but I understand why you loved it so much," he chuckled. "I had water the other day, too. I still have Sustenance Fluids around, but I had water today." Ivan couldn't help but smile. It seemed the wind was picking up. "Wish you could see this."

After a little while of pleasurable silence, Ivan remembered something, and headed inside for a moment. It had grown dark without his notice, and so he flicked some lights on. This technology still amazed him. Everything operated so quickly. He found what he was looking for in his bedroom, and slowly took it outside. "Hey, look at this." He scoffed softly, gently putting down his tree case on the table. "Look at it," he mumbled, gently putting a hand on the dirty glass. "My dear old tree. " He sighed and looked down at the elephant that was still connected to it. "It's starting to look like yours, Yao," he murmured, leaning in. The tree indeed looked lifeless, with just one or two little leaves remaining on the dying trunk. It was probably already fully dead, but those leaves just held on with all their might. "It's dying. Like me."

Ivan had been dying for a while. He had breathed in more than enough of the smog while he was out with Yao five years ago to have killed him by now. However, not even a year after returning to the city, the new, larger trees were developed and prototyped, and the world was blessed with real, large, living trees, that spouted grand amounts of oxygen. The world was starting to purify once more. Due to all the fresh air, and no longer using his small tree and ergo recycling the poison to himself, Ivan was able to considerably lengthen his lifespan. He had seen the doctor the other day after coughing blood, and it was revealed he had another few years on him, if he was lucky.

In all honesty, Ivan didn't think dying sounded that bad. He would be reunited with his love, up there in the Heaven he was convinced existed. He would leave Natalya behind, sure, but she was only six, and she had a proper and untainted set of lungs to last her all of her life. She was a part of the new generation, the healthy one, that would lead the world into sustainability one day. Plus, she had Yekaterina to look after her. Ivan didn't have much of a legacy he was leaving behind, but he wasn't that bothered. He would be fine with it if he passed away. He would go with a smile.

"Sometimes I wonder what you would've said if you'd lived to see this," Ivan said, leaning on the railing and looking out over the glowing city, simply shining out with life and the noises of the night. "I think you'd like it here. It's bright and warm, just like you." He laughed quietly to himself, feeling the wind gently tousling his hair. "Oh, look at that," he sighed, catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of one of the two remaining leaves on his tree falling down and resting amongst the roots. "It's the last leaf. I guess it's true what they say. What you say." he scoffed, lifting up the tree case and gently shaking it, watching as the final leaf of his autumn fluttered down to the bottom of the case. "Leaves fall so new ones can grow, am I right?" he mumbled.

There was a sudden shift in the wind, and Ivan felt like he'd be knocked off his feet. He simply laughed as the cold breeze whipped his face and hair, and he spread his arms wide. "So let them grow!" he laughed into the evening sky, accepting the embrace from the elements. His laughter continued, before slowing down and turning tearful. Still, the wind battered him, pushing him this way and that and flicking his hair every which way. He held tightly onto the railing, knuckles turning white. "I love you," he finished quietly.

The blustery breeze still whistled past Ivan. Amongst the soft howling of the wind turning this way and that, he could have sworn he heard a few quiet words amongst the air. Perhaps his dying ears were just playing tricks on him. Perhaps God was real, and perhaps Heaven was real, and perhaps everything Smiling Romulus had said had been true. Ivan never settled on why he thought he heard what he did, only ever really knowing who had spoken. There was no doubt in his mind.

_"I love you too."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the real end uvu thanks for reading ;w;


End file.
